


Real

by FlyUsOutOfHere



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Depressed Richie Tozier, Minor Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Richie Tozier-centric, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22314487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyUsOutOfHere/pseuds/FlyUsOutOfHere
Summary: uhh idk another angsty one shot?richie is just sad and lonely and doesnt know who to be or how to think or what to saykinda a vent fic i guess?
Relationships: The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 90





	Real

Richie sat at the edge of the quarry, staring down at the water below him. He was close enough to the edge that if he moved forward just a couple inches, he would fall. The cliff he was on wasn’t the one the Losers regularly jumped off of. No, it was one where the space between the cliff and the water was a whole lot further and the water was a lot more shallow. Shallow enough that if Richie were to fall, whether by accident or on purpose, he would most likely die.

That thought scared Richie, but also gave him a sense of security, in a way. Yes, it would be really fucking painful for him to die by falling off of a cliff, but just the fact that he could so easily take his life was what made him feel safe. The fact that he had always had the option.

But now, at this moment, Richie didn’t want to die. Did he want to live? Fuck no. But he wouldn’t jump off of this rock. No, not today. If a random gush of wind happened to push him off, Richie wouldn’t mind. Or if Henry Bowers or one of his goons decided to push him off, he sure as hell wouldn’t be complaining.

Richie wanted to cry. He wished he could. But some unexplainable force decided to make his eyes incapable of shedding tears, so all Richie could do was sit and stare and smoke and hope that the constant feeling that he was choking, that he was drowning or suffocating or just plain dying, would go away.

Richie knew his friends cared. How could they not, if they’d stuck around for this long? But he knew that he was always just the last option. The one person someone turns to when they’re lonely and all their friends that they actually like are busy. And that was fine. As long as his friends were happy, he was happy, right? Eddie comes to him with problems with his mom, and Richie listens. Beverly comes to him to rant about her dad, and Richie is there for her. Ben comes to him when he’s feeling insecure, and Mike goes to Richie when he just needs to talk. Bill and Stan both go to him and complain about their undying love for each other. “Stan, you’re so fucking stupid, he obviously likes you back!” “Bill, just fucking ask him out already!”

Richie was lonely, though. Really fucking lonely. Even when they hung out, he felt alone. He was no longer incessantly ‘beep-beeped’. After Pennywise and his taunts, Richie hated that phrase and he especially hated it when his friends said it to him. So he stopped saying things that result in beeps. He stopped the jokes, the teasing, all of it. Sometimes, he’d still let a ‘that’s what your mom said last night’ or an ‘eddie spaghetti’ out.

But Richie wasn’t used to not being a trashmouth. That was his name, after all. Without Trashmouth, who was Richie?

Richie didn’t know, and if he was being completely honest, he doesn’t want to know the real Richie Tozier.


End file.
